Observe
by Pipamonium
Summary: The casual observer sees little and comprehends even less. He is not a casual observer.


The casual observer sees little and comprehends even less. Their views are inevitably adulterated by pre-conceived notions. Take him for example; he garnered hardly a second look, not a single observer had even a momentary flicker of apprehension of the fox that had stole into their den. For all intents and purposes he appeared to be just another Strip-goer - eminently forgettable - far from the monster he was within. Though to be fair, even a trained observer would have difficulties seeing anything if he wished them blind - such is his skill of deception. Take her for another; though she gathered far more eyes and was far more memorable in appearance the casual observer would be just as blind. They would see little more than a demure young lady, a delicate flower of womanhood, most likely a kept mistress of some rich brahmin baron or other - pampered, spoiled, closeted… She had made no real attempt at deception, unless wearing more appropriate attire for 'going out on the town' as opposed to her regular armour and leaving most of her weaponry at home for the day could be considered a deception. Perhaps someone glancing over at the two of them together might consider them a somewhat attractive couple given their somewhat matching attire. But one should never trust the views of a casual observer.

He knew better. Naturally. He knew the pale hue of her skin was due to her nocturnal tendencies. The dark of night hid many sins after all, especially to an experienced thief. The flush of her skin combined with the light in her eyes and the self-satisfied smirk twisting the side of her lips was a surprise. He had assumed when the rouge Benny fled earlier that she had failed in her plan, but to look upon her now it seemed her revenge was proceeding to plan. Had she allowed Benny to slip through her fingers? Interesting. Even more so was her reaction upon catching sight of him approaching her. She recognized him, at least somewhat, if the way she came to a sudden stop was any indication that is. Perhaps he should have paid her more mind when first they met in Nipton. The smirk she wore faltered with the barest hitch in her breathing as surprise, fear, and confusion flashed ever so quickly through her before settling on equal parts intrigue and worry. Though her posture remained relaxed and open, her breathing calm and even, uncontrollable reactions betrayed her. The sudden rush of adrenaline caused her pulse to leap in her throat, her pupils to dilate, and her breath to come heavier. Her fight or flight response had initiated but she had control enough to not give in either way but waited patiently to see what he would do.

"The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you," he began, his voice pitched up a smidgeon higher than usual and given a nasally edge. Just another layer to his disguise. "He admires your accomplishments, and bestows upon you the exceptional gift of his Mark," he paused a moment as the flush that had faded resurfaced across her cheeks and throat. He admired the control she kept over her body, he was unable to deduce if the flush was due to embarrassment, shame, or pleasure. Perhaps a combination of all three? "Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time. My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands," he finished. While he had not spoken entirely as an automaton his words had not contained much emotion of any kind. Her smirk returned at the pardon he passed to her. An even blend of false innocence and cajoling bled into his voice when he continued, "Incidentally, it will interest you to know that the man you seek has fled the Strip, and is likely making haste for Caesar's camp as we speak." Her smirk deepened as her eyes glittered with malicious delight at the news. So Benny had not escaped, she had _let_ him go, and she had not done so in the spirit of mercy.

"Why does Caesar want to see me?" she queried, tilting her head to the side and blinking slowly at him. Was she flirting with him? His nostrils flared and his lips pulled back in a sneer just enough for her to see before returning to neutral and he responded in the voice he had begun with, "Go to him, and you will understand." She responded with a smile that was more a flash of teeth than anything else.

"If this is a trap, I'm going to take a lot of you with me," she promised. Her fingers flexed unconsciously, longing to wrap around the familiar hilt of her weapon. Instead she brought them up to smooth down the wrinkle free cloth covering her belly. Irritation flashed through him at her impertinence. How dare she accuse his Lord of lies. "The mighty Caesar has bestowed upon you his Mark, and guaranteed safe-conduct. If he wanted you dead, you would be dead already," he snapped. "Tell Caesar I accept his invitation," she smoothly rejoined on the heels of his outburst. He snapped his jaws shut on the first retort that came to mind and instead steadied himself in the span of a heartbeat so as to match her tone as he gave her the information she would need to get to the Fort. "Seek Caesar by way of Cottonwood Cove, south of Nelson. The Cursor Lucullus will be waiting." His business playing courier concluded, he turned on his heel and sauntered off. There was no way he was going to debase himself further by allowing her the chance to dismiss him. Besides, if he had remained in her presence any longer he might of let something slip that he could ill afford to release. Presently at least.


End file.
